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Five minute Fridays: Last

Linking up with Lisa Jo Baker for another Five Minute Friday: many writers taking five minutes to write on a single prompt - no editing, no overthinking, just write, publish, and go lavish some praise on whoever linked up before you. It's a lovely way to end the week, to push yourself to write without waiting on perfection, and to read works of other writers you might not have stumbled upon any other way. Care to join in? This week's prompt is "last". Timers ready...go.

It was quite the haul at the farmer's market: peaches and concords trucked over the Rockies, green beans and bacon from a farm just north-east of the city, darling little pattipan squashes, white carrots, kale, and celery so fragrant it could act as spice. This is what I'd been waiting for: one stop glory of the harvest, grown by the hands that sold it. Late August won't last forever; school, fall leaves, and first frost will be upon us soon enough. So I'm blanching those beans, inhaling those peaches, dreaming of the borscht we'll make once fatter beets join the bounty at the stalls while I chop and freeze yet another couple stalks of dill to add to the greens in the freezer. Between the science of preservation and the memories created of savouring sweet the seasonal, there is a way to make it last.

Thanks :) My Dad grew up on a farm too - his brother took over from my Grandpa so I grew up visiting it. I remember trekking out to my aunt's garden patch - such a marvel compared to our own little city plot my parents' had eked out of our small backyard. Thanks for stopping by!

We're still a good 4 hours from the Rockies themselves, but, I agree they do make for a gorgeous destination. It's hard to imagine that beyond the prairie horizon there are mountains with orchards behind them where cherries will be ripening a full two months after our prairies are covered in snow. But that's Canada for you ;) Glad you like the post. Thanks for stopping by!

According to the classical method of pigeon-holing personalities, I am a phlegmatic melancholic, which is Latin for "thinks way too much about things to fill out 'about me' sections briefly or succinctly". Consider yourself warned. I am happily married to the man of my shopping list (far better choice than the two-dimensional Prince Charming of my dreams), and the mother of a pensive princess, a mischievous munchkin, and one chill but cheery babe. Caring for the above currently takes up most of my time, but I hope someday to train as a midwife. I am an Orthodox Christian, and my husband is a sub-deacon, so I suppose that makes me a sub-matushka (to abuse the Slavic term). I am addicted to coffee and fiction. I love to sing. My weaknesses in writing include alliteration and parentheses (surely you suspected). My love of chocolate is genetic, and the cravings can usually be quelled by heart-healthy high-quality dark decadence, but I still occasionally slum with a snickers. My blog is my happy place, a spot for sharing blessings, and writing for the sheer joy of putting words on a screen.